


to find a place to belong (so why do you run?)

by masamune11



Series: Sports Anime x K [2]
Category: K (Anime), Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball, ダイヤのA | Daiya no A | Ace of Diamond
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - K, Blue King Aomine, Crossover, Gen, Lieutenant Miyuki, Lieutenant Momoi, Professional Baseball Player Sawamura Eijun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2016-11-14
Packaged: 2018-07-19 21:56:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7378849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masamune11/pseuds/masamune11
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <b><<Title changed as of 14 November 2016>></b>
</p><p>In another reality, the Blue King made a clean stab through the Red King's heart to prevent a nationwide catastrophe. In another world, the Silver King made his descent to stop the oncoming storm that was started by the Green King. In another story, the Slate was destroyed and all returned to normal (eventually).</p><p>But this was never such a story.</p><p>Because, here, in a world where Reishi Munakata led a happier life for himself, Daiki Aomine must venture through the thorny road laid out for a King while juggling with completing paperwork and managing underlings who drove him crazy everyday. Fun time? Not so much.</p><p>Especially when a certain blond made his way into Daiki’s life again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. half hour that changes his  world

**Author's Note:**

> The thing is, I just need an excuse to make a happy MikoRei fic. It is to my belief, however, that there can be no such thing as happy MikoRei when they are Kings by their own right, so what do I do? Don't make them Kings, of course; make someone else cope with that responsibilities and _guess what, the jackpot goes to Aomine_.
> 
> While this fic does not contain any MikoRei dose (sorry for that), this will lay down he groundwork for this AU nicely, I believe.
> 
> Unbeta'ed until further notice.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Kagutsu Damocles Down actually created major repercussions for Generation of Miracles.
> 
> Also there is the fact the Daiki Aomine headed one of the strictest public safety enforcement organization, but really it was all thanks to his trusted lieutenants--one who was a childhood friend of his while the other an unsurprising sadist.
> 
> And don't forget the zombie-Kise--but not really.

Daiki Aomine had lived for twenty-five years and experienced many turning points in life—perhaps too many for a person who had only gotten through a third of his expected lifespan. But among those experiences, perhaps there was only one which latched at him, much to his chagrin: Kagutsu Damocles Down.

(He was not the only one scarred by this life-changing event, of course. Tokyo was only tens of kilometres away from the blast radius that _freaking wiped out the whole Kanagawa prefecture._ Seven hundred _thousand_ people died instantly. Thousands others who lost their home sought refuge to the surrounding areas, including Tokyo. Suddenly, there were shelters around public places, social workers tending to those who lost everything, and _people in general trying to do something to make things better_.

The people could have chosen to cower in fear, yet they chose to stand together instead. The event was big enough to break the people away from the growing individualism and apathy within the society; that was how big that tragedy affected everyone.)

He was in his second year, having only witnessed his nineteenth summer just last month, skipping through basketball practice _again_ (because habits died hard, even after his defeat against Kuroko), when he saw the western sky lighted up with _red_ , as if twilight came hours too early. Then came the heat, the dry wind, the dust, and _the fear_. He remembered of pulling his cellphone as soon as possible, dialling the number of certain gold-haired teen because _holy shit Kaijou was supposed to be at that direction—_

‘ _The number you have reached is not in service—_ '

Daiki wasted not another second to hang up and redial the same number, only to repeat his action once again when the _damn_ recording kept on yapping the same message all over. He was about to dial the number again when his the screen of his cellphone flashed, with _Tetsuya Kuroko_ written as the caller. The blue-haired teen quickly hit the accept button, the words following after more frantic than he preferred, “Tetsu, did you see…?"

There were raging noises beyond the receiving end ( _is he not around the capital now?_ ) and Daiki was ready to screech in worry until Tetsuya’s quiet words rang through, “…I did. I… am currently at [Hokuto](https://www.google.com/maps/place/Hokuto,+Yamanashi+Prefecture,+Japan/@35.8410595,138.2630895,11z/data=!3m1!4b1!4m5!3m4!1s0x601c134bfcaf4873:0x340d65a726e7dc34!8m2!3d35.7765303!4d138.4237811?hl=en) right now and… _it… obliterates Mount Fuji, Aomine-kun—"_

Tetsuya’s quiet ( _fearful_ ) rambling felt so foreign for him to process that Daiki cannot help but register the places which the other mentioned. He was not the brightest person among his peers, but the blue-haired young man was sure that Mount Fuji was a several kilometres away from Tokyo. The fact that he could see the edge of this explosion just by the outskirt of [Samigahara](https://www.google.com/maps/place/Sagamihara,+Kanagawa+Prefecture,+Japan/@35.5739222,139.1219943,11z/data=!3m1!4b1!4m5!3m4!1s0x60191b3fdc3418d1:0xfe65b16187c0be03!8m2!3d35.5713316!4d139.3732452?hl=en) made his blood freeze, because it could mean that Kanagawa was the centre of that catastrophic blast.

“— _Aomine-kun, are you still there?"_

Daiki remembered apologising for not listening to the other boy, telling him to stay _put_ and _safe_ , before finally hanging up. After that, he tried re-dialling a certain blond-haired teen that he knew for several more times, before finally giving up after god-knows-how many time. He only went inside the building only after Satsuki coaxed him to join the others; Touou staffs instructed everyone in the vicinity to gather around meeting points across schools, designated to face this kind of catastrophe.

Three days later, he learned that the red light which he witnessed back then was a result of Damocles Down—an event in which highly-supernatural people, whose power manifested in the form of Damocles Sword hovering over their persons, lost control of their power, which caused said sword to fall down and cause major catastrophe.

The whole Kanagawa prefecture was wiped off the map.

Daiki remembered Satsuki screaming in grief, her hands clutching onto the front of his shirt, and himself felling so out of himself, because Ryota Kise lived _there…_ and now he was gone without even trying to fight back. All of this death, due to one single person having _shit_ control over his power—

—he remembered turning his loss into _hate towards those people who called themselves Kings_. Such experience was what drove him to pursue career as a policeman, in hopes that he could be drafted into the specialised units which handled people with supernatural abilities.

(Now he was the head of SCEPTER 4 as well as the current Blue King; the entire irony was not lost to him.)

That was one turning point in his life, amongst many.

The second most impactful turning point of his life happened when he finally got himself position as a police officer through determination and Satsuki’s guidance. It took him two years to get his training done and have the police recruitment exam nailed, right after his high school graduation. At twenty-two years old, Daiki strove to perform spectacularly in hopes to join the Legal Affairs Bureau Annex 4--the special ops department which he had had been aiming for so long. He did not have to wait long to prove himself, for better or worse; two weeks after his official inception, he was dispatched to take care of social unrest in the outskirts of Shizume.

In all honesty, the whole situation was supposed to be easy to handle, until one strain showed up amongst the crowd, spewing tens of fireworks to cops and civilians alike. Many suffered direct hit and the crowd dispersed as quickly as they previously gathered. Some of Daiki's colleagues managed to create perimeter surrounding the strain, with the rest of them either directing evacuation or carrying the injured away from harm. He himself was tasked to evacuate injured ones, to his displeasure (two years burning with rage to put strains in their place would do just that).

Then his colleagues were suddenly screaming behind him when he was trying to pull a wounded woman to outside of the perimeter. Daiki reflexively looked back, only to see the strain aiming a firework blast straight to his head. Suddenly, before he could even cry out in shock, the blue-haired cop felt time slowed down in fraction, the scenery be for him grinding to halt as he felt an instinctual tug so similar to _the Zone_ —

(It felt like drowning in the water, except that everything around him overflowed with power. If the Zone allowed one to focus through its tranquility, this… _thing_ permitted them to _lash out on their will_.)

—and Daiki mentally reached for it, because _they were going to die, so god help him, he needed to do something_.

The young cop, shutting his eyes out, expected the blast… yet it never came.

The man leaning for support (his left ankle was sprained) tensely tugged at the cop’s sleeve, urging him to open his eyes. Officer Daiki Aomine did so… and was stupefied at the blue transparent shield erected just before his eyes, protecting him and his temporary charge from any damaging fire-blast. Everyone was stunned for a single moment, until the blue barrier broke down and the strain, all angry and raging, shot more of his firework projectiles _at him_.

The man leaning at him shouted something about the strain reloading, and Daiki reacted by reaching for that instinctual tug again. This time, he willed it—whatever _that_ was—to build another shield, harder than before, which can deflect anything in momentum. He imagined it to be the strongest shield, his will channeling to that unknown power unravelling by the force of his own pulling. The blast was reflected _perfectly,_ hitting the strain right on his face and knocking said man unconscious. And the battle was over, just like that.

But then, the pulling behind that tug quickly turned stronger, trying to override his own will as he mentally tried to cut it down. Daiki felt more power surging through him—power that he never understood—and building up until it reached a certain limit that coped with his mind. Everything was still silent despite their imminent end of work, which Daiki cannot fathom.

Then he looked at the ground and see an overbearing shadow, cutting himself from sunlight. The Blue Damocles Sword hovered eerily, feet away over his head, and Daiki knew that his life had taken another turn.

Those two events, he decided, defined his first twenty-five years... and led him to where he was now: sitting behind his office table to face piles of documents needed to be signed while being attended by two of his subordinates—one who happened to be his childhood friend while the other happened to be, unexpectedly, the wounded man who witnessed his ascension as the new Blue King three years ago—because _damn it all, he_ _never imagined his_ _life as a police officer to be this administrative._

(At least, he got his dream job.)

* * *

  
The summer air that filled his office's room felt suffocating. Despite all the air conditioners that SCEPTER 4 can afford, it would seem that there was no beating the nature in this one. Daiki might as well get through with his (further) administrative works with as little complaints as possible.

(Satsuki always sighed whenever he voiced his complaints, countering back with the easy fact that Daiki needed only to sign the documents that she handed over. It was not like he would expend energy on reviewing anything that was not basketball-related (Daiki claimed that it's for team's engagement, not for his own convenience), so the pink-haired woman ran the whole checks herself. It was part of her job as SCEPTER 4 first lieutenant, after all.)

Daiki eyed the piles of paper before him in silent aggravation before, finally, working through the first one. He was almost finished on his first when the door swung open, revealing a bespectacled young man with brown hair and even darker eyes. There was that shit-eating grin that made Daiki groaned internally; whatever dark clouds that this man brought with him, he might as well be ready for any possible, social-life-threatening repercussions.

Perhaps Daiki's distress showed, because the brunette only laughed as he stepped inside with a digital pad in hand. "Don't be so distressed, Aomine- _san_. I'm not here to ruin your day, really. In fact, I have good news."

"There could be no such thing," Daiki emphasised, his eyes glaring daggers at whatever the other had in his hand (Daiki flatly refused that it was _just_ a digital tab), "as good news coming from you, _ever_ , Kazuya."

The man, Kazuya Miyuki, snorted as he closed their distance, the smug grin never leaving that cunning face. "Well if you think so, though, then this might be the first good news ever," he said, handing the digital tab to Daiki.

The head of SCEPTER 4 let out another sigh, then mounted in on his personal terminal. Seconds later, the projector revealed several photos of people who were under their supervision, given the number tags that encircled each of the strains' wrist. He barely recognised any of them, which was disconcerting since Daiki made personally catching strains his personal life goals so he ought to know each and every strain within SCEPTER 4 premise.

"And these people are?" Daiki questioned, his eyes never leaving the photos before him.

"Potentially Risk 3 strains who willingly come with us after series of testing conducted by USAGI's special ops division," Kazuya promptly replied, his voice sounding too eager to Daiki's ears. But the Blue King waited anyway; his second lieutenant always had something under his sleeve.

"But the most important thing, Aomine-san," he said, bringing the one photo out to the screen that made Daiki froze in his seat. The mischievous twinkle in Kazuya's eyes may have softened (or maybe it was a trick of light) into that of sympathy and gladness, as he finally settled with, "we found Ryota Kise."

The world seemed to stand still for Daiki as he looked at the maximised photo of this man. Ryota Kise still had that blond hair from eight years ago, the same hairstyle, the same yellow palish skin, but different (misplaced) _tired_ smile. The structure of his face remained as jolly as Daiki remembered, yet there was sombreness reflected in Ryota's eyes, as if he had aged for more than a decade.

Despite all that, Daiki Aomine knew for real that _this_ _is_ _Ryota_ _freaking Kise_ , who was thought to be dead after his home at Kanagawa had been wiped off map.

He was not aware that he had unconsciously raised up his blue aura, until Kazuya cleared his throat. As soon as the second lieutenant had his attention, Kazuya let out another smirk. "I can arrange a meeting between the two of you, off-records. No one, not even those bunnies, will be able to find you there."

Kazuya sounded so sure despite the boldness of his claim; surely anyone can try to outsmart Seijuuro "absolute" Akashi, but Daiki never actually knew of people who _was able to._

(Then he remembered that Kazuya Miyuki was twenty years old when he exercised his plan to take down one of the most sought-after mark of SCEPTER 4, normally, only with the help of that cunning mind, a baseball bat, and a friend of his who happened to throw killer fastballs at hundred-fifty kilos per hour. The man outsmarted said strain by using the terrain and _the crowds_ ; Daiki came to acknowledge his strategic mind and quick decision making skills infield. If there was someone who could get toe-to-toe in terms of strategic battle against Seijuuro Akashi, it would be Kazuya.

…not that Daiki was eager to showcase the man to said Gold King. The last thing he needed was his _superior_ hijacking one of his best men. SCEPTER 4 was already understaffed, and Daiki acknowledged that Kazuya’s absence will severely impact the ops performance.)

“That’s impossible and you know it. At least, the stealth part." Daiki deadpanned, finally finding himself settled on his chair once more. He let out another huff, his mind trying to piece together the facts, but to no avail. Where was Satsuki when he needed her brilliant mind on this matter?

 _Which reminds me_ … Daiki rubbed the bridge of his nose, hoping that it would grant him some sort of relief from this _shock_. “Have you told Satsuki?"

“No, I haven’t told her, yet,” the other man replied, his grin turning into frown. “In fact, I did not plan to, at least until you confirm yourself that this is the man from your—both of you—past."

Daiki watched as Kazuya’s lips thinned, if only for one moment, then relaxed, as if to signal the end of his message. But two years of working together was enough for Daiki to learn some of the subtle quirks that his second lieutenant established. In this particular case, the smug bastard was holding back some other information which, knowing Kazuya, would blow before his face if said man decide to let the matter lie. Daiki kept his glare with an eyebrow arched upward, “and?"

“Do you want me to inform Momoi-san about this?” Kazuya replied back, his words succinct and _logical_ , but _Daiki knew it was just a front_.

He scowled, “yes please, but only after you spill everything, you raccoon."

The bespectacled man seemed to consider his captain’s words for a moment, before finally yielding to his wish with a long sigh. “He cannot recall memories before Kagutsu Damocles Down, even going so far as forgetting his own name. Now he goes by the name Yagami."

Now Daiki felt as if the world shattered once more, swallowing him into despair with its debris. He grabbed unto the armrest of his chair and gritted his teeth, his min drawing over many things: for how long had Ryota been under the Gold clan's care? Did Seijuuro know? How was Ryota's condition?

There were so many questions that the Blue King needed answers to... and it will be best to start from the easiest of the bunch first: to make sure of the condition firsthand.

"Alright, I get your point," he replied quietly, before straightening his voice again, "have that meeting arranged for me, Kazuya. I want it hosted on one of our trusted meeting points. Also, keep it as private as possible. Report to me when you have designated a perfect time and don't forget to notify Satsuki. That's all."

* * *

The Munakata cake and patisserie, which had been opened for barely two weeks since Daiki received that mind blowing news, was situated right across the renowned bar HOMRA. Apparently, the owner was also the Gold King's favourite landscaper, though the one tending the place was his son. Daiki was surprised by his lieutenant's recommendation, given the close link that the man had with the current Gold King, but Kazuya only grinned in triumph and told him that he was able to make the owner's son promise not to breathe a word of this meeting. The young man even went as far as providing a private quarter within the premise, away from prying eyes and ears.

Daiki had to admit that the whole secrecy went just beyond his expectation. Not to mention, the cappuccino was the best he had ever tasted.

He can tell that the room was meant for meeting with two to four people. It was the only room situated within, with its partitioned made of perpendicular glass plates to reduce noise from the outside. It was not the best place to hide from customers sitting within the building, but given the slow morning (and Kazuya's intervention, he presumed) it was not really a problem. As long as he can be hidden from outside—and the room was blocked from outside view—Daiki supposed that it would serve its use.

Daiki noticed the shop owner's son walking out from the kitchen, with a smile that was eerily similar to a certain Blue Clan second lieutenant's, and straight towards him. The young man respectfully entered the premise, his eyes clinically evaluating the Blue King as though gauging the level level of threat a man like Daiki could possess under his casual clothing.

(It was Satsuki's idea to have him dressed up like civilian, despite his duty today. Daiki chose to wear white shirt with black jersey. A little part of him foolishly hoped that Ryota might remember... If at all.)

The blue-haired man smirked under the man's scrutiny, "you do realise that it is rude to stare."

If the man was flustered, he certainly did not show it. The man bowed, "I apologise for staring. It is just that... when Miyuki requested me to host this arrangement, that the Blue King himself would visit our new establishment, we thought that it will be less discrete than this."

 _This_ may refer to how casual the Blue King was being and how lax the security was. Daiki can understand the man's bewilderment, really. "I need this meeting to be as low profile as possible. I assume Kazuya already explained to you this?"

"He did, though I personally find quite misplaced," the man replied and fixed his glasses. "On another note, do you find the cappuccino to your satisfaction, _Ao no Ou-san_?"

Daiki can only smirk at that question; he wondered if this man happened to be Kazuya's secret brother, because that certainly was a veiled jab at his personality (which he can ignore, because the Blue King had gotten a better head over the years). "It is the best that I have ever tasted. I would like another cup and one hot chocolate too, for the young man whom your friend was accompanying."

The man blinked and looked outside, noting the fact that Kazuya, also in casual clothing befitting a professional baseball player _(a dream long forgotten),_ had entered the café with another person in tow. He nodded in understanding and moved out of the room, greeting his friends as he did so. Not long after, Kazuya went in, his signature smile in place, and then, "I hope Reishi did not offend you much, captain."

Daiki snorted, remembering the fact that just moments ago, Reishi Munakata just implied that he did not agree with how Daiki ran this semi-operation. Honestly, if he wasn't used with Kazuya's diplomatic insult and reality check, Daiki would have lost his patience by now. "You're joking. But now I get why the two of you can relate to each other."

Under normal circumstances, he would have traded more banters. But his eyes had been lingering on the fidgeting form of Ryota Kise just outside of the room, clearly displaying that he only wanted to get these all done. Kazuya understood, really, and ushered the amnesiac man into the room. The lieutenant urged him to sit just across the Daiki, before leaving both of them to their privacy.

Ryota Kise looked healthier than the photo two weeks ago. The blond's cheeks did not look as sunken, and whatever lankiness that remained before was gone, courtesy to Satsuki's two-weeks dietary adjustment. Even though he seemed better, the incomprehension haunting his eyes worried Daiki the most.

"Hello, Yagami- _san_ ," the Blue King started, trying his best to keep his manner straight ( _pretend this is not Kise,_ _pretend_ _this_ _is_ _not Kise_ ), "relax, I am not here to hurt you. You are among friends here _._ "

Ryota seemed to perk up at his voice, his gold eyes focusing on Daiki so readily that the other almost mistook his reaction as _comprehension_. But such reaction disappeared as quickly as it came, leaving new wariness in its wake. Ryota squinted, "I... am supposed to go through stress-testing today. But you're not Mayuzumi-san."

Daiki recalled the man with grey hair and cold gaze and quickly dismissed that thought—the mere recollection of his first uncivil encounter promptly resurfacing—with a click of tongue. "Well, I have the liberty to have your schedule reorganised, so you will have me to attend to your queries, Yagami,” the dark-haired man grinned almost wolfishly as he deliberately dropped suffixes so easily that the blond man narrowed his eyes in distaste.

“And you are supposed to be?” Yagami’s words was barely heard, but Daiki caught them well thanks to quietness around them. They were told in such guarded ways that the Blue King could not help but frown at such guardedness. If this was the wall that he needed to break down in order to restore this man back to his previous self, then he would tear it down _harshly_.

Daiki had never been one with subtlety anyway.

“Daiki Aomine, head of SCEPTER 4, which you are under custody of, and the current Blue King."

The thing about mundane conversation… was that it can ensnare any participants of said conversation to lower their guard. This can happen to anyone, even if said person was the goddamn rascal like the current Blue King. There was also the fact that he was conversing with the one person who he believed to be dead; it was only natural for him to be at ease—to forgo any signs that triggered his warning buttons, even the one coming from _his own blue aura—_ and missed the slight change at how Ryota looked at him at such haughty introduction—

—how _recognition_ settled at the back of those golden orbs.

Daiki did not miss the other man tensing soon after, but naively took it as the effect of having introduced himself as the man on top of the food chain. He frowned, blue eyes narrowed once more, and _oh he so hated to console even if the man happened to be Ryota freaking Kise,_ “listen, you don’t have to be tensed. I told you before that you are currently among friends—"

There was a blast coming from the outside, loud enough to shatter the glass divider that separated the private room and the general waiting space. There was no visible blast nor heat, but Daiki can feel gust of wind actually knocking him to the nearest wall.The comm. link attached to his jersey blared to life, mainly dominated by Satsuki asking for status reports and damage control orders. He groaned, feeling his surrounding wobbled due to hitting his head just _wrong_ as he fought to stand up and shake off his confusion.

_What about Ryota?_

Groaning, he stood up and turned towards the blond man. But before he could even ask for his well-being, Daiki froze in his place, blue eyes widening as he saw the green light surrounding his friend. Ryota’s eyes flickered with sorrow and _green lightning_ , with broken glasses hovering around him.

Daiki did not even have the chance to _speak_ before Ryota hurled those broken glasses using his own power _at him_. He willed his blue aura to protect him—

—yet he was a moment too late; one found its mark on his right lung, just between the space of his upper rib, while another cut through his hastily put-up shield right at his heart. His blue shield almost failed out, but he stubbornly held through just to defend against the other projectiles. After a moment that felt like an eternity, Ryota’s onslaught stopped; perhaps he was evaluating how pitiful he was, lying on the floor with blood gushing of the wound on his chest.

Perhaps it was the blood loss or his shock, because those golden eyes were not filled with scrutiny, but rather _pain and regret_. He remembered straining his ears to reach for any sound that his surrounding made, because Daiki wanted to hear the words flowing out of that moving lips—

_why are you a kING?_

—he saw Kazuya rushing into the room, bellowing the standard SCEPTER 4 issue for his potential captive to surrender. There was another screech ( _was that Kasamatsu? he was not dead **too**?)_ that sounded much like a sonic blast, the sound of breaking glasses, and flashes of blue… before comprehension left his mind and dropped him to the depth of abyss.

(The ghost of Ryota looked at him with a genuine question, his words loud and clear, “why are you a King?"

Daiki glanced at sea of blue beneath him—the sea of blue that hummed and seethed and _gleamed_ with power that can never be for human, yet pushed such potential tragedy _just because_ —and found no answer 

“I don’t know.”)


	2. wants to gain the queen, loses the knight instead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Of course it had to be Seijuuro Akashi himself who stopped him. Of course._
> 
> * * *
> 
> Daiki's luck for this year is just the worst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do understand that I left the previous chapter with a wounded Aomine, a whacked out Kise, and… a pastry chef Munakata without proper explanation. Hopefully this chapter will clear things up.
> 
>  
> 
> ~~and by clearing things up... I mean muddying things over for the sake of plot.~~

Daiki roused to the beeping sound of a machine. 

 

The first thing that he did was not to open his eyes to scan the surrounding. No, the immediate action that he took was to deeply breathe in the clinical air that was a blend of disinfectant and rosewood… and let his body sluggishly soak in that simple blessing. His mind was clear, even when his chest hurt like hell, at least he mentally turned at the grumpy hum of his blue aura. There came images of blue shield that was erected a moment too late, of broken glasses buried into his flesh, and of a man whom he thought to be long gone.

He remembered; suddenly the pain made sense.

As the memories came back to him tidal wave, Daiki groaned and opened his eyes to the familiar gold ceiling that he knew too much. He blinked several times and moaned in frustration again; the last thing he wanted was to be brought to the medical bay somewhere within a certain Gold King’s castle. He can never mistake such horrid interior design and wondered himself why the current Gold King dismissed such design as acceptable.

(He knew he was just being bitter about the color at the moment. Gold had been Ryota's color; the mere sight of it reminded him of his fond rival of high school, his death... and his resurrection. Daiki hungered for explanation that involved a single punch, no blood loss, and no _powers._ )

The room was empty saved for the beeping machine right next to his bed, designated to monitor his vitals. Daiki noticed how some of the cables from the machine were attached to places around his upper body as well as his arms. None of them involved needle, he thought, save for one snug at the back of his right elbow. He quickly removed the ones without one, ignoring the noises caused by his action, and worked to detach himself from the one with. He was just finishing his task when one of the Tokijikuin members walked into the room and yelled indignantly, something about a proper patient having better manner than _this_. Daiki was about to tell the person to screw it, but said man had already rushed out of the room, probably to notify his boss that the oh-so-stubborn Blue King had finally awakened.

The first thing that came into his mind was to regroup with his comrades at SCEPTER 4 premise; dealing with one Seijuuro Akashi right now was among his 'certain things not to be done' list. Those were ingrained in his mind as he calculated how quick he could get out of the room, preferably without having to smash through the window to the  outside (he was at around 20th or so floor; if he were in normal state, he could jump out of the window. But whatever medicine that the gold clan injected to him was interfering with his coordination right now. He could lose concentration, missed breaking his fall, and had his obituary printed on tomorrow's paper for taking the suicidal path out).

Daiki eyed the way out briefly and decided to pick the regular escape route: just through the door, the emergency stairs, then home free. Such exercise would quickly get his adrenaline running and, hopefully, tone down the sluggishness fogging his brain. He quickly exited the room, curiously noting that no wearer of bunny-mask was within his sight, and rushed towards the emergency exit just at the end of the corridor. He noted that he was at fourteenth floor—way lower than his previous assumption—and prayed that no bunnies will appear before him and drag him back to that room.

It seemed like forever before he finally arrived at the ground floor, gasping for breathe but having clearer mind, and opened the exit door. The back lobby was deserted... saved for a man dressed in  traditional montsuki kimono—a blend of red, black, and gold—despite the summer heat, standing in front of the automatic door as if to barricade him from his freedom. The man smiled, red eyes glinting with amusement, while Daiki only groaned further and rubbed his face in frustration.

"Hello, Aomine- _kun_. Are you not being a handful patient, right now? You shouldn't make Mibuchi- _kun_ worried."

Of course it had to be Seijuuro Akashi himself who stopped him. _Of fucking course._

"Well sorry, but I don't like to wake in an unknown room. It's not good for one's nerves, you see," Daiki half-growled and slowly walked to close the distance between them. But then he saw how the corner of the Gold King's brow twitched, those red eyes flickering with gold that reminded him of _the_ selfish Seijuuro who prioritized winning over _everything_ , and promptly stopped at that subtle threat. If he were still a high schooler, he wouldn't be so aware; he was the head of SCEPTER 4 now and had dealt with people like Kazuya, who exploited his shitty personality if only to play mind games, so Daiki ought to understand a little bit of sarcasm here and there.

"Neither do I like having one of our custody having a secret, _unsecured_ meeting with the head of SCEPTER 4 without the latter consulting to me. Also the fact that you did not inform me that said person was actually Ryota Kise, who somehow took this chance to assassinate you in public," the red-haired teen pointed out almost petulantly, though someone perceptive would likely catch his teeth-grinding frustration, oozing like a bad cancer.

Daiki was never that perceptive, but he knew hard truth when he saw one. "I need to make sure of something first, before talking to you. The assassination, though..." his nose scrunched up in distaste as he recalled the exact moment Ryota decided to finish his life, "...I certainly did not expect that."

Funny how his tone seemed to hold annoyance before, now only to sound hurting and disbelieving.

Seijuuro's stare seemed to soften as he approached his past team mate and let his hand rest on the Blue King's left shoulder. "There are matters beyond our understanding, even when we possess abilities that belonged not to ordinary people. We are still as fallible as any human beings, capable of doing oversight and blunder."

"It still makes me feel like shit," Daiki replied weakly, blue aura bristling and writhing under the flow of his emotion. His heart ached in its attempt to reach for his power to heal itself, reminding him once more that he was still here.

(For how long had he been unconscious? The phantom pain that gripped his heart felt too fleeting; had he been asleep for months? What of his clan?)

"All, this power," he scorned, "only to be blindsided at the most important moment."

"Only because you don't understand the whole situation," the Gold King calmly replied and released his grip on Daiki's shoulder, "if you would be so kind to follow me back to my office, I would like to discuss a matter of importance with you—as Kings."

There was no venom in Seijuuro's words, but the authoritarian tone was clearly there. Daiki did not— _could not_ —refuse the subtle nudge to go along with his request, following Seijuuro's drifting form as the latter made his way to the elevator, in silence.

* * *

Daiki thought that he was being led to the topmost room of the building—Seijuuro’s private office—where the Gold King made decisions that navigated the future of Japan. But when the red-haired man tapped on the red LED button made of four-lettered kanji, similar to imperial seal, and had his hand scanned on the pad (and he was _not_ captivated by how the palm-scanning machine rose from beneath the closed hatch, just below elevator terminal), he realized that they will not be heading for the usual office. Judging from how hidden the whole switches were, Daiki could only hazard a guess that he was being led into the most guarded room in Mihashira Tower.

The better question of the day, though: _guarding what_?

The elevator shut close and quickly ascended, before finally stopping with a familiar _ding._ They were met by steel door, which, Daiki thought, was sturdy enough to hold back several blasts of a his blue aura—at _full power._ It would serve as hindrance for those who are not Kings, meaning that it was designed to keep ordinary intruders completely out. _But why?_

Silently, the red-haired man approached the nearest terminal and, once again, had his palm scanned (alright, so maybe Daiki was a little bit jealous with such sophisticated security. While the security of SCEPTER 4 building had been very well-maintained thanks to Satsuki's meticulous effort, they still lacked  _clan power signature recognition_. Surely Seijuuro's palm glowed gold for validation purpose, right?). The steel door gave way to an enormous room containing nothing, saved for an artifact lodged three feet away under the glass floor, beckoning him to come closer and let Daiki reign the world—

“—still with me, Aomine?"

Daiki blinked as the rest of his thoughts stilled. Seijuuro's red eyes were sternly trained on him, carrying a certain wariness as if he was faced against an enemy. That look sat unwell with Seijuuro's usual confidence... and it unsettled the blue-haired man (like an itch that resided at the edge of his senses).

The Blue King turned his attention at the slab of the alien rock beyond the glass floor, glaring warily at the wonder rock—the one item that Seijuuro had inherited from the previous Gold King and told him about, "this is the slate?"

"This is the slate," Seijuuro confirmed quietly and took several steps forward until he stopped over the edge of a connecting ledge, where a blue orb was snugged comfortably on its place. Daiki noticed how the blue orb glowed brightly, along with other orbs that were stuck at the each of their respective ledges. The only ones glowing were silver, gold, and blue, while the rest were transparent enough to be crystal clear, though he could make out the color red, green, dark grey, and pure transparent crystal.

“Huh,” Daiki absent-mindedly hummed, suddenly realizing that there was a soft tug at the back of his mind that screamed to be let in—an instinct that was not his own but kept expanding. The Blue King decided to ignore it for the time being, especially when his gut suddenly had newfound interest in the darkened green orb. “The green one doesn’t glow."

“Despite Ryota’s appearance—and disappearance—yes, it does not glow,” Seijuuro added, effectively bringing the well-rested topic out in the open once more. Daiki’s eyes narrowed at his former captain—now the _invisible de facto_ ruler of Japan—noting the implication that Seijuuro somewhat knew of the fact that _Ryota’s eyes glowed green_  and _he might not be alone in running his show_. Had the Gold King used some means beyond his liking to obtain that information? Was he endorsing unnecessary measures that might pull his clan members to the wrong end?

(There was a knock in the back of his mind—an instinct that softly mumbled of _reign and power_ that stood not for Daiki's belief, or so he thought. But Daiki, being subconsciously curious as hell, peeked and felt _it._  Everything suddenly felt so blurry, so _mystifying—so intoxicating_ _—_ like his first time descending into the Zone _._

But before he could say _no_ and turn back, Daiki was already pulled down, _drowning within the will that was not his own_.)

Those red eyes, glinting with gold, narrowed back, and Seijuuro made an indignant noise, “Satsuki reported to me of this finding while you were out. Contrary to your mental accusation—and mind you, I sense that—I only intervene when necessary, and even then, never beyond your _term_. I respect your authority over your family, Daiki, just like you do mine."

The undercurrent of gold within Seijuuro’s grasp rattled—a fair warning to the other King. “Get a grip and stop thinking nonsense. That was all because of the Slate, not you."

Suddenly, everything surrounding his sense cleared out, the whispers belonging to no one becoming distant; the familiar blue that was like a mirror of himself settled down, breathing calmness under his skin. Then he realized the subtle undertone of gold beneath it, sturdily and resiliently reinforce that feeling, before it disappeared, its presence trickling back to the red-haired King. He also realized that Seijuuro's eyes gleamed golden, staring intently at him, as if the man was expecting a response that justified his interference.

Well. If Daiki wasn't embarrassed before, he _was_ now, because _wow did he almost throw a quick Kingly tantrum_ and _Seijuuro Akashi was able to_ _neutralize... whatever the_ _hell_ _that was?_

And apparently the red-haired King only looked at Daiki sympathetically, perhaps understanding the confusion that ghosted over his face or simply reading his thoughts directly _because_ _Seijuuro_ _can do_ _that_ _before he was King, right_?

(He was exaggerating, of course; the only reason why Seijuuro was ever good at reading people's mind was because of his natural inclination to observe, one that was similar to Tetsuya's. Compounded with his tact and the Emperor Eye, Seijuuro was able to analyst his surrounding and act accordingly. Now that he had become the Gold King, with his gold aura enhancing the natural gifts possessed by his clansmen, who knew how further the man stepped up his game.)

"The humming... caught me off guard too, at first. But you'll get used to it and be able to block it out whenever required," Seijuuro explained with such conviction, as if it would clear out Daiki’s perpetual stems of questions. "But about that, I think it's better to save that discussion to another date. I don't want to keep you for long."

_You have your clan_ _to look_ _after_ _too_ , might have been the words left unsaid; Seijuuro's red-gold eyes kept on stealing a look at the blue orb below, after all, as if to emphasize the current state of Daiki's own army. The Blue King stiffened, his expression tight, before he finally sighed, yielding to the other's request. He saw how Seijuuro's own form relaxing, signing that he _did_ observe Daiki's slight movement.

"Alright then," he breathed out, blue eyes gleaming with anger and frustration, "let's talk about what _you_ know about _Kise_ , because last time we checked, there was never a Green King, moreover a _clan_ , to begin with. If they ever _were_ , Kagutsu must have taken them down to hell."

(The fact remained that Kanagawa was where three former clans resided: Red, Blue, and Gray. Each had its own territory, contrary to the recent condition, therefore its own authority to an extent. Thus, Kagutsu's Damocles Down effectively wiped off not only some parts of Greater Tokyo, but also the most of the members of said clans.

Granted, the Green Clan _—_ if they ever were _—_ might have their base of operation somewhere within Kanagawa. But there had been no signs of their activities across Tokyo for years, so surely they were obliterated.)

Seijuuro mutely nodded, agreeing to the other King's argument if not for what other assumptions he had in mind. His hand hovered over the terminal as he brought out translucent screens before them that displayed general bio-data of their most sought-out mark. Ryota’s gold eyes stared at them blankly, still absent of that green in Daiki's memory. On the screen next to his photograph was his general details: his name, height and weight as of recorded, nearest family relatives, and several photos from when he was in Kaijo High. Daiki ignored the things that he was aware of, skimming through the wordy details in a flash, until he stopped right at the most recent photo available. It seemed that it was taken from the street, capturing a worn-out Ryota speaking with, yet again, another person from their past.

Yukio Kasamatsu glared at the direction of the camera, as if he had known that they had been watched from the start. Yet what really made Daiki's world go unhinge was the light streak of green lightning bouncing out from his right palm... and how Ryota's golden eyes lighted up in _emerald_.

"Apparently, Kagutsu did not, as you put it yourself, drag them down into his hell," Seijuuro quietly added, "because the Green Clan is here, despite all evidence pointing otherwise. I am blindsided here, Aomine, and I need your help."

* * *

What Seijuuro meant by  _help_ was  _live baits_ to lure out members of Green Clan. 

Daiki had no qualms of being one, of course, given the nature of his and the members of Blue Clan's position; the main purpose of SCEPTER 4 was to enforce and maintain the law towards people with special powers, be they strains or other clan members. Given that the Green Clan resurfaced in such way that caused public uproar and damaged facilities, their action fell within territory of their judgment, if only to prevent further mayhem. SCEPTER 4 was made for this, unlike the Tokijikuin who were used with support and defense.

Really, he could go to each member of SCEPTER 4 and ask whether he or she is uncomfortable with doing _his or her job_ and had a strong "no" slapped back unto his face. Satsuki would have hit him on his shoulder, saying that he was being nonsensical again, and Kazuya would have teased him for asking the damn question in the first place. His underlings were just devoted that way...

...and yet, everyone assumed that everything was within their capability. But the world loved to prove them all wrong.

It was no one's fault, if Daiki wanted to be fair, because none suspected that Ryota Kise had the outstanding ability to change the color of his aura from green to _gray,_ bouncing every blue slashes that went to his way with a perfect shielding that characterized such ashen aura. To make matters even worse, some of his own subordinates started acting crazy; from the edge of his vision, he could see Enomoto swinging his blade at Akiyama, the latter pleas of _'Enomoto-san, please snap out of it!_ ' went unheard. Benzai had come to them quickly, if only to help Akiyama subdue the bedazzled man from causing further harm.

He recalled Kazuya’s palling face when the bespectacled man realized the possible cause of their clan’s disarray. Seeing his disbelief was enough for Daiki to dispatch him away, telling him to deal with the problem as quickly as possible. Kazuya disappeared as quickly as he was told to, leaving him and Satsuki with the mess that was Ryota Kise and Yukio Kasamatsu.

Both of them were standing right across the street, Ryota's golden eyes gleaming with something akin to regret. The gray aura which he emitted around him and his accomplice simmered, a concrete proof that he treated Daiki as a threat to be dealt with.

Satsuki, a calming presence standing by his side since forever, stepped forward with determined gaze. Her sword was already drawn for battle—a sure sign of determination to quell the rebellion that was incited by this man, even when he was her old friend. “Kise-kun, please stop this madness… and come with us quietly.” 

Daiki might have imagined the little glint of sorrow lingering behind those gold orbs; the wicked smirk that decorated Ryota’s face diminished the sincerity of his sympathy. “Sorry, Momoi-cchi,” he replied, the suffix hurting Satsuki even when the woman remained unmoving on her spot (because the suffix was a sign that  _Kise still respected her,_ and both parties knew ), “but we have a world to change."

The man standing by the blond’s side took the first move, stepping forward with a heave and screamed. The strength of his supersonic cry shattered glasses of the buildings around them. Daiki saw those falling debris glowed green, just like the day Ryota debilitated him into submission, and rushed at them in a storm of dangerous projectiles. He never made the move to defend himself, not when his best friend—his lieutenant—made themselves a bubble shield big enough to envelope both of them. The rushing projectiles turned into dust as they made contact with the bubble’s surface, reminding Daiki that, despite his overwhelming power as a King, Satsuki mastered the power of blue aura earlier than he ever did.

Satsuki cocked her head towards the green clansmen duo, which was enough sign for Daiki to draw his sword and forced Satsuki’s blue aura to blast away. The Blue King quickly rushed at the blond, both exchanging blows. Sometimes Yukio would interfere with a quick jabs and sonic shot, which was quickly repelled thanks to Satsuki’s shielding support. Yukio noticed this and scowled, his attention quickly turning to the pinkette. Daiki had not time to worry, of course; Satsuki can handle herself just fine. He needed to focus more on Ryota, who was moving too fast for his liking.

He noticed how Ryota’s blows were like feather-touches, maybe because the power difference; for all Ryota’s ability to cause dangerous poltergeist, he was still just _a clansman_. Daiki was the Blue King—the alpha of SCEPTER 4; normal clansman’s power paled in comparison with his. The blond knew this, but he opted not to back down.

(It reminded him of their long-forgotten match when Daiki was still fixated within his boredom towards basketball. At that time, Ryota rose to challenge the status quo, only to fall short of his expectation. Yet even when it’s different this time—the power he held being greater than Ryota’s own—Daiki cannot, in his conscience, underestimate the drive behind the blond’s power. Near-death experience had not obliterated every shred of hope and respect towards the other; some slivers of it still remained—waiting, yearning, and _hopeful_.)

"Dammit, Kise," he growled as blue clashed against green, their forms mere feet away, "just what the hell are you trying to achieve?"

For a single moment, Daiki was sure that there was twinkle in the other's eyes—a sense of mischievousness that reminded him too much of his middle school days. Ryota stepped back, making distance between them—not too far, just enough for his words to reach the other—and falling back to regroup, and then _chuckled_.

"I—no, _we—_ " he started, arms spread wide as if to emphasize the masses within his mind—the voices of people that Daiki would not comprehend, or so Ryota believed, "—want to remind the world of the faults you've committed while wielding that power, Aominecchi."

A flinch, a scowl, and then a raised sword. "Says the man who wield it himself to cause public disruption."

The blond man barked out another laughter so unfamiliar to Daiki's ears. "Oh, but Aominecchi, you're not the only Kings around the world, are you?"

And then he moved again, blue and green clashing against each other as they exchanged blows further. One would think that they were at par with one another, until Ryota made the first mistake, one that Daiki took advantage of, for landing on the wrong foot—on the wrong _form_. Daiki took the chance to disable his knees with a kick, disorienting the other long enough for him to blast him to the nearest debris. Yukio dutifully returned to his side like a concerned senior he was, cursing their situation and Ryota’s idiocy (there was concern latching those brutal words there), as he pulled the other back. He made another scream once again, throwing Daiki off-balance but otherwise undamaged.

Satsuki had returned to his side, and Daiki just instinctually knew that she was starting the procedure for capture.

There was nowhere for them to run, no chance for them to escape the alpha and beta of SCEPTER 4. Nothing short of miracle would save them now—

—that, and Daiki's bad luck of the year, probably, because suddenly the bubble that his best friend had prepared for capture popped out of existence. Judging from Satsuki's disbelief, she wasn't expecting that to happen either. Then came the raining projectiles of blue spear-like shreds of laser, creating division between the capture and the captive, along with two figures descending down midair. Kazuya Miyuki had came down from whichever building he was investigating, alongside a brunette with golden eyes, slung hands circled around Kazuya's arms to better orient himself. He knew that they were all in trouble when Yukio grunted an ‘ _it’s about damn time_ ’ and Ryota’s pain-filled eyes flickered with relief.

The brunette standing by Kazuya smiled, as radiant as sunlight, and then turned at both him and Satsuki. Brown eyes shone golden, emitting warmth that made Daiki tingle all over, like the time he rose on the first day of the week. It coaxed him not to move— _not to pursue_ , _just stay there like a good man and be washed away in lethargy_ —and set him uncharacteristically on edge. This was wrong, he wanted to exclaim; he had an objective to achieve, and doing nothing here will only sabotage his attempt to arrest the blond man.

The blue aura, sitting at the back of his mind, acknowledged his will and surged forth. It eradicated that false warmth, its biting cold snapped him out from whatever trance he was in. Dazed, he refocused his attention once more to the one responsible for his non-awareness—

—but there was no one there.

Daiki blinked again. Still no one. There was only Kazuya, knocked out cold on the ground, and Satsuki, uncharacteristically zoning out next to him. He retraced back the last thing he remembered before blacking out ( _did he even black out?_ ), recalling the gold eyes belonging to one brunette who arrived by Kazuya’s side. He tried remembering anything that happened after then, but the most he could get was the tingling warmth that felt so _false_ , and then… nothing.

The Blue King groaned, as he recalled something else that wasn’t quite recent. The brunette, he remembered, was one of the strains with peculiar situation under Kazuya’s supervision. Coincidentally, he was also playing for a baseball team sponsored by Akashi Corporation—a rising star in the NPB (and it’s a very big _deal_ , because Daiki paid no attention to sports other than  _basketball and_  here he was, recognizing a person who could possibly be another public threat)—and was one of his lieutenant’s—Kazuya’s—high school friend. Eijun Sawamura, he recalled, was a man who can instill emotions on his target (which explained his sudden happiness and lack of related memory) but had no control over his own power; it turned on and off in itself, never appearing so bad that the person needed to be quarantined.

Considering what just happened to them, it would seem that baseball player's files needed to be updated as soon as possible.

Scowling indignantly, he drew back his sword and blared his blue aura—big enough to call for those within his range to 'snap them out'. Satsuki wobbled beside him, the nudge of his frigid aura affecting her more than he expected.

"What just—," she blinked, her eyes widening as reality of their situation dawned on her, "where are they?"

_Best question of the day, Satsuki_ , Daiki silently mused. "Gone for now, thanks to the damn baseball idiot," Daiki replied, his frustration apparent in his tone. "Akashi is going to throw a _fit_."

* * *

Contrary to Daiki's claim, Seijuuro Akashi did _not_ throw a fit.

The Gold King, however, did drop by SCEPTER 4 headquarter and steal him away for a meeting, ignoring any comments—voiced or unvoiced—coming at him because _who can deny the ruler of Japan?_  (Daiki could, and so could a certain red-haired man wielding the power of red aura several blocks away, but he loathed the future consequences that would _surely_ bite him). The red-haired man brought him to the cafe belonging to Kazuya's acquaintance—the same one in which he keeled over as his high-school friend left him to die.

The red-haired man knew to poke where it hurt.

They had settled on one of the private room barred with blurry glass partitions, one that was similar to that of his first visit (he noticed that the owner had not finished his repairs and noted himself to Satsuki to take care of it; the least they can do for dragging him into this mess was, at least, to pay the bill). Seijuuro sat quietly across him, sipping his oolong tea in peace as if yesterday's escape was of no importance. It grated on Daiki's nerves, really, and the summer hear did nothing to alleviate the restlessness gnawing at his bones.

Seijuuro kept silent; Daiki had enough. Letting a long-suffering sigh, the Blue King pursed his lips, "now that you have me to yourself, why don't you tell me what you want, Akashi."

The deliberate distance that Daiki put seemed to catch the red-haired attention. The red-haired man put down his mug attentively, red eyes sternly directed at one restless Blue King. "I want a report, directly from you, not a shoddy job of cover-up done by your oh-so-stellar lieutenant," he frowned, "Kazuya Miyuki, was it?"

Daiki winced at the mention of his right-hand man. He recalled his last conversation hours ago, when he summoned the man to his office. Kazuya looked _terrible_ , the bags under his eyes rearing (the guy was strict with his work-life balance, usually getting his eight hours sleep _no matter what_ ), when he delivered the draft of mission report for his approval. His usual demeaning smile was replaced by exhausted one that drove the captain to shoo him away for the rest of the day, signing the document promptly (even when he dismissed the finer details) if only to alleviate a little bit of workload. 

He did not want to look at that face right now, not with that look—not when he knew it well enough. Daiki saw it on the mirror still, blue eyes gazing back and wondering how the world can turn his best friend against him.

"To be perfectly fair," he groaned, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, "he was still in shock."

Seijuuro only waved his hand in dismissal, "which is why I'm here to glean what _you_ know, rather than what he was trying to hide. Tell me about Sawamura."

There was not much that Daiki could share; Sawamura had not appeared until he brought Kazuya with him, bewitched and suggestible, and then ran away with the rest of the green clansmen. But if he recalled back that day again, his subordinates were in state of disarray, maybe courtesy to that damn baseball player. Seijuuro kept his gaze level, his expression an unreadable mask, to Daiki's distaste. It broke into a thoughtful look when Daiki was finished with his tale, annoyance reeking out like bad odor. But Seijuuro had always been the diplomatic one; handling a miffed Blue King was something that he learned during his tenure as the latter's captain.

"I see. Then, I suppose he performed very well, though I never thought that he would go to such drastic measure."

Seijuuro's words froze the blood in his vein; did the man really say that with nonchalance? Daiki's eyes widened in shock, seeking understanding from that red orbs because _surely this was not part of a grand plan that he was not involved in_?

"What."

A raised eyebrow, then a forlorn look. "We have no information of our enemy and traditional means had yielded nothing. It is plausible to get someone into the system and be our eyes and ears."

"At the expense of _civilian_?" he growled, "sitting on your 'throne' had reverted you back to your old ways, I see."

Daiki was proud of himself for not flinching under the glare of the other King; Seijuuro was never one to lose his cool from such such petty bait, but the golden gleam echoing his red eyes promised destruction. But as quickly as it showed, they dimmed, the usual crimson turning into blood orange. The young ruler let out another heavy sigh and found solace in his tea no more. "Eijun Sawamura has no longer been civilian when he accepted his offer at _Shizume Kokujouji Crows._ He is now a member of Gold Clan—and he will perform his duty, by my command."

...

_Well_.

"I can't believe you pulled that out," he muttered as he sagged on his seat, clearly conflicted with how unexpected things had become, "who else knows? How wide do you want our circle be?" _Will he be safe? Can he look after Ryota in the mean time_?

At least Seijuuro turned calmer at the direction of their conversation, the golden gleam of his power finally disappearing from sight. "Currently you and me... and let's keep it that way. I want no word about this to spread, not even to your trusted lieutenants—" he paused, a glare to emphasize his point, “—you understand, right? not even Eijun's close confidant, not even _your_ closest confidant. The less who knows, the better Sawamura's survival chance is."

Daiki had no argument against that arrangement; as much as he wanted to give explanation to his right-hand, if only to relieve him from his current confusion, the need to know what Ryota was _planning_  outweighed everything. He would do anything to see that end. The Blue King nodded mutely in agreement. "Will that be all?"

Seijuuro did not answer his question right away, his eyes lingering on the silhouette of the bar across the road, just beyond the blurry glass partition. They said silence spoke louder than words; this one was enough for Daiki to stand up and walk away. But before he even got to the door, the other made his authority clear with a word: “there is one more thing that I wish to let you know."

_Let_ , Daiki noted; meaning that even the great Gold King was not sure in opening the gate of his plan—whatever that was. It pissed him to some degree, though Daiki understood the necessity to keep one cards’ close. He cocked his head impatiently, “and that is?"

He looked enough to see the latter thoughtfully pondering over his choices. But the man settled eventually, eyes carrying the stare of calculation and consideration. “I want the Red King to be involved in our… excursion."

Daiki stilled, the image of a rival-slash-best-friend pulled to the front of his mind, evoking yet-another bittersweet moments of his life. “ _Hell no._ "

“Oh yes,” Seijuuro smugly, albeit grimly, intercepted. “The more Kings backed our cause, the more options we could consider. Therefore, Aomine, please seek out Tetsuya… and convince Kagami to enter the fray again."

...

Daiki should have exited the room faster than he did. Maybe he would not have to deal with this bull.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next story will be about Tetsuya, Kazuya, or Eijun.
> 
> First to comment gets to pick.

**Author's Note:**

> *SFX drumroll and horrid violin sound*
> 
> Title courtesy to chapter 1 of Final Fantasy Type-0.
> 
> I think I remember someone putting up something about Kagutsu Damocles Down area being the whole Kanagawa prefecture and parts of Mt. Fuji?? I'll add the reference later.


End file.
